Kyrgyzstan is a relatively small high mountainous country, sandwiched between Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan and China. A large part of the country is characterized by the Tian Shan. Only in the south are there foothills of the Pamirs. The Kyrgyz are originally an equestrian and nomadic people, but of course there are also Kyrgyz of Russian descent who were "transferred" to Kyrgyzstan for strategic reasons during the time of the USSR. The Russian influence can still be clearly felt today, in the infrastructure, building methods and also through the Lenin statues that are still enthroned in large numbers in the town centers.
Since we only had a limited time of 18 days, but wanted to get the best possible impression of the high mountain landscape of Kyrgyzstan in the short time available, we decided on a 10-day trek in the Tian Shan, in the far northeast of the country. We found a small guidebook for this trek in bookshops and as there are no other maps or detailed tour material for Kyrgyzstan, we gratefully accepted this tour suggestion. A few weeks before the start, we began to plan our daily food rations (calories vs. weight), optimize the weight of our backpacks, air out our tents and sleeping bags once again and at least stock up on German-Russian picture dictionaries - after all, none of us spoke a single word of Russian or Kyrgyz.
Wandering through Bishkek
In mid-August, the time had come and we took off on our flight via Istanbul to Bishkek. In Bishkek, we started looking for gas cartridges - we had of course found a store called Red Fox that sells gas cartridges in advance, contacted them and reserved cartridges. So we used the Cyrillic city map to find the store address, only to discover that it had probably moved. This was the first time we realized that a few words of Russian would certainly have been an advantage, as it was relatively difficult to find the new location with an illegible map in a foreign language. We also stocked up on cash, as there are hardly any ATMs in the hinterland. Even in Bishkek, it is a feat to find one of the countless ATMs where you can withdraw cash using Maestro.
The next day, we wanted to travel from Bishkek to Karakol. Karakol is a town on the eastern shore of Issyk Kul, the large high mountain lake in the east of the country, and right at the gates of the eastern Tian Shan. Most of the mountain tours start from there, for example to Inyltschek and Khan Tegri, as well as our trekking tour. We had imagined the journey to Karakol to be quite adventurous and long and were secretly expecting complications, for which we had planned a spare day. But contrary to expectations, we arrived in Karakol after just a few hours in a private cab via the northern route. One last well-kept beer and one last high-calorie evening meal before we could set off the next day.
It's on!
Highly motivated, we heaved our heavy backpacks into the trunk of our cab the next morning, which took us to the starting point of the trip, Chong Kuzyl Suu, from where the route into the massif would be relatively unspectacular. From Chong Kuzyl Suu, we wanted to tackle the first two stages of the tour guide in one day and spend the night at the confluence of the two glacier streams Ashuu-Tor and Kotor. Despite the beautiful and already lonely mountain landscape at the start, we soon came to the bitter reality: "Shit, the backpack is heavy!!!"" So we quickly discarded the plan to combine further day routes.
Rather exhausted, we pitched our tent in the last rays of the sun. As soon as the sun was gone, you quickly realized the generally quite sporty altitude of the trek and the down jacket was at least not dragged along for nothing. Shortly after lunch, the first thunderstorms and rain clouds made themselves known, which were to remain constant throughout the entire trek. At least we could rely on precipitation!
Encounters with the locals
The next morning brought us our first contact with the Kyrgyz nomadic children. In exchange for a handful of sweets (they were not willing to negotiate), we were taken to the other side of the river via a rope bridge and from there we set off on our way to the Archa Gate Pass (3930 m). We wanted to set up camp just below the pass. So we dragged our backpacks, which still felt far too heavy, the 15 km uphill over lonely, lush green meadows with views of snow-covered and lonely glacier giants, until our faithful friend - the precipitation - caught up with us. Fortunately, thunderstorms and rain gave us a small window of time to set up our tent and cook dinner, but that was the end of the peace and quiet.
The night at around 3600 m was restless. We were not yet optimally acclimatized and, thanks to the thunderstorm and wind, we also lacked the necessary rest. The early morning then held another surprise in store: even a light touch on the tent wall led to strange sliding noises and it soon became clear - fresh snow! This also made finding our way to the pass somewhat difficult at first. Once we reached the top of the pass, however, we were rewarded with a spectacular panoramic view of the Terskej-Alatau and the Karabatkak valley, despite some clouds. Our long journey took us through the green Asan-Tukum valley on the nomads' bridle paths into the Jeti-Oguz valley. There was always a reason to stop: Snow giants that suddenly appeared around the corner, carpets of edelweiss and, time and again, rather fat marmots that were not particularly shy compared to the alpine species. A magnificent view of the mighty massif of the glaciated Oguz-Baschi (5181 m) in the evening sun rounded off the first pass day of our tour.
The next morning, we set off early towards the river, as the water level of the glacial streams is significantly lower in the morning than in the afternoon. In addition, we had already arranged with a nomad the day before that we would be taken across the river on horseback so that we didn't have to walk the long distance to the next ford.
As total novices when it came to horse riding, we were both very impressed with how the lanky nomad unerringly brought the heavy transporter across the river (or rather his horse): In one hand our 25-kg backpack, with the other hand us still stabilized on the horse and in the mouth elegantly the cigarette. Once safely on the other bank, we continued into the Teleti Valley
Bouldering potential in the Teleti Valley
On the way, every bouldering enthusiast's heart will beat faster, because there are boulders everywhere on the lush green meadows. Highballs, overhangs, slab boulders - you could find thousands of new projects (and clean them too...). The stage through the Teleti Valley is very long and strenuous. On the way, you pass nomadic yurts again and again and are immediately besieged by the many children who are desperate to see a picture of themselves on the digital camera or dust off a few sweets. One father even rode after us for almost half an hour with his son because he wanted to see a father-son picture (this makes you realize how much we take such a luxury for granted). At the end of the valley, the path finally winds its way up to the Teleti Pass (3750 m) below which we pitched our tent again at around 3300 m above sea level. Although we were once again surprised by rain on the ascent, we were lucky in the evening: sun, blue skies and finally a head-to-toe wash - wonderful!
The next morning, the good weather stayed with us and we set off early on a wonderful ascent to the Teleti Pass. Once we reached the pass, which is surrounded by glaciers, we once again had a view of the fascinating, lonely mountain landscape of Kyrgyzstan. We then quickly descended again into the Teleti-Karakol Valley. The Teleti-Karakol valley captivates with its wonderful views of glaciated peaks and lush green meadows inhabited by masses of marmots. It's not for nothing that there are actually marmot hunters in this area. And edelweiss everywhere again. We had a long but very relaxed hike along the idyllic stream to the campsite on the Ujun Tor River, from where you can also set off for Peak Karakol (5218 m).
In Karakol National Park
We had now entered national park territory: Karakol National Park was established in 1997. Here it becomes clear that the Kyrgyz are well aware of how important it is to protect their vast mountain world and that the development of sustainable, gentle tourism is therefore of immense importance. This is not a matter of course for a poor country that is just starting out with mountain tourism. In the evening, we were visited by the park ranger, who asked us to pay the national park fee in solid English. And as he seemed to think we were quite nice, we got a small part of our payment back straight away - but we had to promise him that we would use it to buy chocolate at the Karakol base camp, which we would pass the next day. The thought of chocolate alone made us sleep particularly well.
The next morning, the weather changed within a few minutes from blue skies to heavy rain and snow in the high mountains. We were therefore very grateful that we found shelter in the yurts at the Karakol base camp, which we passed after a while, and were actually able to buy chocolate as promised. There was a small supply station in the base camp where you could buy what are probably the most important supplies in Kyrgyz terms: Schnapps and chocolate. Despite the dreadful weather, we took advantage of the first short break in the rain to march on towards Ala-Kol Lake (3530 m). The partial stage to Ala-Kol Lake is offered by some tour operators as a 4-day tour with a guide and porter and so we encountered a few trekkers for the first time that day and, conspicuously, also immediately saw garbage along the way (empty packaging is known to be lighter and should therefore disappear back into the backpack and not into the bushes).
After a long and arduous climb in increasingly better weather to Ala-Kol Lake, we pitched our tent right on the shore of the lake. The lake impresses with its clear water, which changes color several times during the day (Ala-Kol means "colorful lake"). It was quite windy and cold up here, so we soon slipped into our tent under a beautiful starry sky.
The next morning we set off early for the Ala-Kol Pass (3920 m) to be as alone as possible, as the guide had promised us a stunning panorama. And that turned out to be true: We were completely alone on the pass summit for almost an hour and marveled at the gigantic peaks of Pik Karakol, Dschigit, Khan Tegri and Oguz-Baschi in the best weather. This was followed by another long and long hike through the valley towards Altyn Arashan.
Traces of tourism
Altyn Arashan is a small settlement in the Arashan Valley, which is now experiencing an upswing in tourism thanks to the occasional tours offered to the Ala-Kol Pass and its hot springs - not necessarily to the benefit of the settlement. You can pitch your tent in the garden of the houses there and if you want, you can also stop off at the tourist yurts. After a few days on our own, however, the binge drinking of the Kazakh tourists there seemed strange to us and we quickly longed for the solitude that we had come to appreciate so much.
We therefore decided to forgo the originally planned excursion to the glaciated Ak-Suu Wall and the associated second overnight stay in a tent in Altyn-Araschan and set off the next morning in the direction of the Ashuu Gate Pass. The wide and dry high valley in front of the pass is reminiscent of Mongolia and is used by nomads as grazing land. However, it was only to remain dry again until halfway up the ascent to the Aschuu-Tor Pass (3650 m). Then the full program began: light rain, heavy rain, sleet, snow and a heavy thunderstorm. This made the climb over the strikingly red-colored rock difficult and inhospitable. We quickly descended into the Ak Suuu Valley to find a comfortable campsite.
Back to civilization
The next day brought us back to civilization in Ak Suu. We dragged our backpacks out of the valley for what felt like an eternity, always with the motivation in our heads that today we would finally have a cold beer and a nice shower. We reached Ak Suu in the middle of the afternoon and were immediately picked up by a bus to Karakol and a young Kyrgyz woman seemed to have realized how famished we were after she gave us some apples with a pitying look.
When we came to rest in Karakol over the next two days, we quickly realised that we would have liked to have seen more of Kyrgyzstan - but unfortunately there wasn't enough time this time. Of course, it was tedious carrying the heavy backpacks in less than ideal conditions. But the solitude and the unusual peace and quiet on the mountain, the wonderful impressions and the ease of traveling in Kyrgyzstan made up for all the effort. We were so enthusiastic that we would like to come back to discover even more unexplored corners of this wonderful high mountain country. We hope that Kyrgyzstan succeeds in continuing to develop tourism in a sustainable and gentle way, because it would be a shame if the unique and still wild landscape here were to become subject to man.
Literature:
Kai Tschersich (2005): Kyrgyzstan: Terskej-Alatau-Traverse. Trekking in the Tienshan. Conrad Stein Verlag
ISBN 3-89392-551-1
